The Guidance - By Marley Gibson Page 0,17

and I wanted to—"

"Nope," I interrupt. "Normal. Teen. Agers."

Clay bumps Celia with his hip. "So, I'm really your boyfriend?"

She rolls her eyes, first at him and then at me. "Whatever."

Jason and I laugh while Clay wraps his arms around her tall skinny body. "You like me! You like me!"

Celia's knocked off balance by his playfulness. "Oh my God. Grow up, Clay!"

He smacks a big wet kiss on her neck and that settles her down. I love seeing them together, and I'm happy that Celia's got someone who understands and appreciates her just the way she is. It makes me feel less guilty for having a boyfriend of my own.

Looking at Jason and me, Clay shakes his head. "Man, what were you thinking, dating Courtney Langdon?"

"Yeah, seriously, Tillson," Celia chimes in.

"Cut me some slack," he says. "She actually used to be sort of nice. She's just high maintenance, you know? Her parents both travel a lot and she doesn't have much parental guidance on matters."

Celia flattens her lips together. "And now Kendall's getting the attention you used to give her. And a majority of the school and the town are giving our ghost-huntress group more recognition, and I bet it's eating Courtney alive."

I snort. "If that's true, then the girl sincerely needs to get over herself."

Jason squeezes me again. "I'll make her get over it if I have to."

"Speak of the devil...," Celia says, looking behind me.

My pulse begins to speed up at the idea of another melee with Courtney. I'm just not strong enough for it right now. But my intuition tells me it's not my nemesis, so I pivot to see which one of her cheerleading minions is approaching.

Stephanie Crawford smiles shyly, shielding her eyes from the sun with her left hand. "I know we don't really know each other, but can I, like, talk to you, Kendall?"

I turn my head in either direction at my friends. "We don't have any secrets from each other."

"Sure, that's cool. I can respect that."

I brace for more RHS snottiness from one of the ruling princesses, but instead, Stephanie offers an apology.

"I'm really sorry about what Courtney did to you at lunch today. That was classless," she says.

I reach out toward her with my feelings to make sure she's for real. Her large hazel eyes sparkle genuinely to match her smile. Her shoulder-length goldy-brown hair is pulled away from her face with a rhinestone headband, and she's nervously awaiting my response. Her spirit seems honest, true, kind, and trustworthy, and it makes me wonder why someone like Stephanie hangs out with a skank like Courtney.

As if reading my mind, Stephanie says, "I wouldn't blame you for hating me for associating with Courtney. She and I aren't even that tight. We're just cheerleaders together. I don't follow along with everything she does like some other people do."

I give her a smile of my own. "The applesauce incident wasn't your fault, Stephanie. You have nothing to apologize for. But in any case, it's proper of you. Thanks."

She appears to be quite relieved when she reaches a tanned arm out to me, her hand extended. "I'd like to be friends."

Celia shifts her eyes from Stephanie to me, and I can tell she's wondering what the catch might be. There is no catch. Stephanie truly wants to make peace. I take her hand and shake it up and down a couple of times. Very grown-up of us. Then Jason holds out his fist to her and she bumps his back.

"Cool," she says, letting out a long breath. "I wanted to tell you that I believe in your abilities. Especially after what you did to help find my grandfather. I'd never have the guts to go on a ghost investigation or anything like that."

I crease my eyebrows together. "Your grandfather?"

Celia knocks me with her elbow. "Delaney Lockhart ... remember?"

"Oh! Your grandfather! Right. That was a hard case. I'm glad we were able to help your grandmother," I say.

Stephanie's face lights up at my recognition. "She was so appreciative," Stephanie says with her hand to her heart, and I know she means it. "Y'all'll have to come to the memorial service on Sunday at McWhorter's Funeral Home."

"That would be nice," I say. Part of me worries about what I'll encounter at a funeral home. Will it be full of lost souls wanting my help?

Stephanie's eyes are open wide, vivid with life all of a sudden. "Hey, I've got a great idea! Kendall, why don't you do psychic readings at